


Mr. Pigeon

by darkesky



Series: Duality [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Episode: s01 M. Pigeon | Mr. Pigeon, Gen, Miraculous Ladybug PV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkesky/pseuds/darkesky
Summary: Le Paon clears his throat. “So Ladybug’s plan failed.”“Excuse you?” Ladybug bats her eyelashes innocently. “We just did your plan, and we lost!"“That wasn't my plan. My plan would have been better formulated than that shitshow!” Le Paon exclaims.Heat swelters up in her cheeks. “Your plan would have resulted in the same, Paon!”“No, my plan would have been much better-"Ladybug stomps up to him. “And if we wouldn’t have wasted time and just did Pathfinder in the beginning—”“Guys!” Chat loudly calls, getting both of them to snap ‘what’ in his direction. He offers a shit-eating, his tail swishing. “What if we just… Follow the pigeons?”---In which allergies and akumas don't care about your personal lives (and all the heroes learn what teamwork should mean)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Duusu & Felix, Felix & Adrien, Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Tikki
Series: Duality [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555636
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	Mr. Pigeon

**Author's Note:**

> and we're back!! I really like this one, and I think the next one will start branching out more. I like exploring the other students' in their class, and it was fun playing with Nathaniel, Kim, and Alix this week. Next week, I get to write on one of my favorite characters of this series (Nino) and I'm absolutely pumped. I'm glad I found this drive for this story again, and please comment if you like the direction it's heading in!

_ For each new wielder, Plagg goes through the same routine. He’s been around since the beginning of Earth; very few wielders defy his expectations. He’ll crack a joke as they open the box, and then he’ll start laying down boundaries in his head. The wielder never gets to know where he draws the line with them, though. He never lets them even get close to the line.  _

_ The line being, of course, his closeness with them.  _

_ There are other lines he wished he could stop them from crossing. He wished he could make all of them swear an oath to never use the Miraculous for evil, but he still bats a 50-50 chance they’ll turn to the dark side. He wished he could make them all promise to protect the Ladybug above all else, but blood still stains his paws. The only line he can hold sacred and protect is the line of their relationship. _

_ Plagg refuses to get close to most of them. He will love them as acquaintances, as kittens he babysits. He rarely loves them as kittens he raised; those who get that close to him almost always suffer the most brutal deaths. Black cats aren’t meant to be sweet and pure. They need to compliment the Ladybug, which often turns them dark and beyond reach.  _

_ Watching the other kwamis sink into depression after their wielders pass away or give up the Miraculous, he knows he made the right choice. They refuse to recognize the truth of their wielders. One day, they will die, either it be from old age or some freak accident or losing to a villain. When they do that, the only thing left to do is move on and leave that wielder in the past where they belong.  _

_ (Tikki once told him he’s too jaded because of a few bad kittens. She quoted some old poem at him: ‘Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all.’ He responded by asking whether it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all. She huffed and told him he missed the point of the poem. Plagg made an oath that if he ever saw a copy of that poem, he’d Cataclysm it right out of existence.) _

_ Still, many of Plagg’s kittens have come and gone. Very rarely does a kitten get to give him up. Either they keep him until their death bed for company and good companionship (which happens maybe once or twice every 2000 years), or they perished too fast and too soon.  _

_ He takes that back. Two conditions follow ‘too fast.’ Either the wielder was ill-suited for the Black Cat miraculous, which always means they’re too soft and too sweet to handle the force of destruction (and who can blame them), or they pushed too hard with the force of destruction, and instead, the force of destruction came for them.  _

_ Going through each wielder, he tries to lay them between these lines. He knows all of the either-or situations, and Plagg tries to judge them based on those at their first meeting. Usually, his guess is pretty spot-on. The guardians, despite being based on some family legacy, pick the same kinds of people every time. They claim they never pick wrong, but from the second a wielder slides on the ring, he can pick out whether they’re right or wrong. _

_ None have ever fooled him.  _

_ When Wayzz visits him and warns him about the ancient evil starting to rise and how Master Fu instead wants to befriend it, Plagg sighs and gets to his feet. He’s not Nooroo. He’s not going to mope over the possibility of his next wielder being evil; he’s going to go out on the battlefield.  _

_ After all, he’s the kwami of destruction, and in combination with Tikki, that makes them the most powerful duo of kwamis possible. _

_ - _

Considering Gabriel  _ planned  _ this event and this timetable, Felix  _ knows  _ his father wants to screw him over any way possible. He overloaded the schedule by forcing him into extraneous piano and Chinese lessons. To add to the pressure, they’re still in the middle of the first week of school.

Gritting his teeth, Felix reaches for his coffee. Before his fingers brush against the mug, he hits something distinctly  _ feathery  _ and groans. “Duusu, do you mind? I still have an hour left of work before I can go to bed, so I’d really appreciate my caffeine.”

“You’re feisty when you haven’t gotten sleep,” he singsongs as he sits on the handle. Duusu puffs up his feathers, making sure Felix watches him. “I think it’s time to go nap that bad attitude away.”

“I would love to, but I still have work to do.” Felix reaches for his cup again, but Duusu refuses to move. As much as he wants to just drag it to his lips regardless, he wouldn’t put it past Duusu to knock it off the desk and wake up his brother. If Adrien wakes up and notices Felix is still stressed about this project, he’ll  _ insist  _ he goes to bed.

Which, of course, is hypocritical coming from Adrien since he rarely gets enough sleep. The two of them seem to swap off which one of them stays up until 3 am, armed with an energy drink of choice. Whichever one attempts to sleep always tries to convince the other to do the same, no matter the hypocrisy behind the action, though. 

Fine, if Duusu won’t move, he’ll power through the rest of the slideshow. He hates making these things, but Gabriel likes forcing him into composing the rules on a series of slides… Especially if Felix’s intended audience is teenagers. Gabriel fell out of touch with teenagers long ago, but he insists the way to charm them is through Powerpoints nobody really wants to stomach. Heaven forbid Felix and Adrien advise Gabriel on what to do though.

Clicking through the slides, he clears his throat. “Duusu, come over here and be helpful. See any typos?”

“I don’t even need to go over there to know. My peachicks are nothing less than perfect.” Duusu puffs out his chest.

Rolling his eyes, Felix goes to dismiss the comment before hesitating. He glances over at his kwami. While Duusu maintains his composure well, he still slips up when it comes to keeping secrets. Peacocks, after all, represent the truth. Keeping secrets defies the very nature of him. “Have you had many peachicks?”

Duusu freezes and makes a face. “You know I’m not supposed to answer that question.”

“And who exactly swore you to secrecy?” Felix waits as Duusu huffs. “I found you in a box in our attic.”

“Well, you know, I’m not  _ meant  _ to be found in a box… Well,  _ that  _ kind of a box. It’s a little disrespectful that he just used a cardboard box—” His kwami cuts himself off before darting off the coffee’s handle. “I bet your brother has the right kind hidden around here somewhere! Be right back!”

“Don’t destroy anything.” Satisfied, Felix reaches for his coffee and takes a long sip. When the steam disappeared some time ago, it enhances the bitter taste settling on his tongue. He smiles and tries to wake himself a little more, shaking out his hands before returning to his laptop.

Then, Duusu slams a Chinese box on the keyboard.  _ “This  _ is the kind of box I’m supposed to be found in. Obviously, it’s lower quality because it belongs to that mangy  _ cat,  _ but…”

“Isn’t that mangy cat somewhere in this room?” Right as Felix begins to look around, Duusu shushes him. “What? What does it matter if I meet Adrien’s kwami? I already know it’s Adrien.”

“First of all,  _ you’re  _ not allowed to tell Adrien that. And Adrien can’t know your identity.” Duusu huffs. “I hate secret identities, but  _ especially  _ this early on, you can’t spill the beans. You just have to bear the burden of knowing the others. In addition, his kwami’s asleep right now with him. And I will be trying my very best  _ not  _ to be noticed by him because wielders tend to get upset if their kwamis lie to them.”

“I know, I don’t intend to tell Adrien. He’s already a risk-taker. If he knows I’m out there, he’ll do anything to keep me from getting a scratch, and I can take care of myself.”

Cheering lightly, his kwami flits up to nestle on his shoulder. “Exactly. Peacocks are independent. It makes sense you’re getting some of  _ my  _ superior characteristics.”

“And my brother is getting some of his  _ annoying  _ characteristics.” His eyes float over to Adrien. His brother curled up in a ball, pillow clutched against his chest rather than under his head, and he  _ purrs.  _ Like a thunderstorm.

Duusu nods. “It’s better to get peacock tendencies.”

“Which are exactly?” He tries to lock eyes with him.

He floats away. “They manifest in different ways. Usually, though, all of my peachicks are a little vain. You already cared about how you dressed, and despite the drab colors you insist on wearing, you’re doing a good job without my help. But you’ll probably get flashier in front of a crush… We flare our feathers to attract mates.”

“Flare… I sincerely doubt I’ll start busting my ass to impress someone, but I’ll let you know.” Felix clicks to the next side, and Duusu races from his cheek to his hand. He pats his feathers against his hand aggressively. “Yes?”

“You’re done working. If you go to bed right now, I’ll give you more warning about being a peacock. We’re very noble creatures, but we’re also unique.” Duusu’s eyes sweep over to the empty bed. It lingers momentarily on Adrien. “Of all siblings you had to have, you had to be twins with Chat Noir.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reluctantly, Felix peels himself away from the screen. He knows Duusu is manipulating him right now, but he also knows Duusu will be true to his word. And considering nobody really knows how peacocks act outside folklore, and he’s not traveling down some rabbit hole of zoo websites, he’d rather hear it straight from his kwami than anything else. 

He settles into his pillow before Felix even sits down. Shifting around, he lies on his stomach with his feathers sticking upwards. “His kwami’s more… Volatile. Your room will  _ reek  _ of cheese after a few weeks, just you wait.”

“You’re the one who insists on corn,” he reminds him. Grinning wryly up at the ceiling, Felix tries to make a schedule with his plan. He knows he’ll need to have the file forwarded to Nathalie before the school day begins…

He falls asleep before he even settles on one time.

-

The whole limo ride, Adrien tries to coax a smile out of his twin. When he woke up this morning, choking on what he thinks was a snore rumbling deep in his chest, Felix already sat at the computer. He kept paging through the slides too fast to read but slow enough to look at the general aesthetic. When Adrien snuck up behind him, Felix almost stabbed him with his coffee mug (and while he’s not exactly sure how that would have worked, he knows Felix would have found a way). 

The moment he slides out of the limo, a pink blur rushes forward and almost rams him back inside. “Yo, blondie! You’re trying to join the fencing team, right?”

Felix pushes past him, and he takes a second to read the room. Alix and Kim both stare, identical smirks and gleams in their eyes. Identical  _ jackets  _ too. They both don white jackets with silver sabres over the heart, the two crossed at the blade. Beneath, someone stitched Francoise Dupont Fencers. 

“Foil,  épée, or Sabre?” Kim asks, ignoring whatever Adrien might have responded.

Adrien pauses. Throughout his life, he always bounces back and forth between sabre and epee. While it messes with the technique, it ended up being helpful with his baton. After all, Chat’s baton can strike with the side of the ‘blade’ like sabre as well as the tip like epee. 

Finally, he shrugs. “I’m leaning  épée .”

“Good! We don’t have a huge fencing team, so we really only compete in events for  épée. Otherwise, we’d run out of people.” Alix claps her hands together before bouncing up, laying an arm around his shoulders.

His eyes flicker between the two of them before he nods. “So, I know the two of you are on the team. Who else?”

“Returners?” Kim wrinkles his nose. “Not a lot of people are. I think the only people confirmed to be coming back are me, Alix, and Ondine. Everyone else either graduated, or they bailed. The team isn’t the most…”

“It’s well-loved,” interrupts Alix, “but it’s hard, and people bail because they’re wimps. We just need a team of six, though. If you commit, other people are going to because you’re  _ you.” _

“Adrien Agreste. Ladykiller.” Casually, Kim bumps his hip with Adrien. The blond smiles back at him, unsure of what to say. If anything, judging on what he’s seen in class, Kim deserves the title more than Adrien. He flirts with anything that has legs, including Alix and Chloe who both show zero interest.

The second he says that, though, Alix snips something back at him and the two dissolve into an argument. He gives up on trying to follow the stream of insults. Knowing the two of them, since they’ve made a point to discuss fencing with him almost every day now, they will emerge from the argument in about an hour. In the meantime, he doesn’t need to follow along.

And tryouts are in about  _ two weeks.  _ Adrien already has fencing lessons about three times a week. His father tried to split the important lessons between Felix and Adrien. Since Felix will follow in his father’s footsteps and own the company, he does the internship for the brand, Chinese lessons, English lessons, and the occasional piano lesson. Since Adrien models the brand, he gets the flashier talents—fencing, piano, and an occasional lesson in another language (but since French is usually the  _ language of love,  _ Gabriel leans into Adrien using French all the time).

A clap on the back startles him back into the conversation, and judging by the wide smirk Alix offers him, he missed something important. “So… I guess what I’m saying is you  _ have  _ to join us after school for a practice session.”

Adrien knows without even consulting his schedule what stops him from saying yes. From the very end of school to the late hours of the night, he will be busy modeling. Felix expects him to demo derby hats; he even hired a photographer. He knows Felix went behind their father’s back to request one other than Vincent. The man produces the best photos, but he’s a bit of a perfectionist, and Adrien twists himself in every direction to try and accommodate for facial expressions the man wants.

Adrien still doesn’t understand what Vincent means by ‘looking like a gazelle who stumbled upon the fountain of youth,’ but he tries.

And the derby hat competition ends at around six PM tonight! He’ll do a quick photoshoot with the winner. It’s not the runway walk yet; Felix gets to arrange that at the very end of winter to celebrate all his accomplishments. He picks the venue, he picks the models, and he picks pieces  _ he  _ created in some way, shape, or form. 

“I can’t,” he says at last.

Kim gawks at him. “Oh, c’mon, surely you can convince your old man to let you off tonight? This is, like, one of the most  _ important  _ things possible! And if you don’t prepare, then you’re not going to be our star fencer!”

“And, you won’t be prepared when you’re offered as a sacrifice. But, you know, I can’t control your decisions.” Alix offers a wide smile before backpedaling from the two of them. Adrien stares at her as she glides over the sidewalk to meet up with Max. Since when did Heelys come back into fashion?

The other boy takes a long moment as if staring Adrien down will cause him to relent. Then, he offers a dopey smile and joins up with Max and Alix. The three of them spend most of their time together, but Adrien’s yet to have a single conversation with Max. Probably because he wouldn’t be able to hold his own intellectually. Adrien’s good at a lot of subjects, but he’s a master of none of them.

Adrien turns in time for Nino to tackle him. “Dude! You will  _ never  _ believe what I spent all night doing!”

“Your homework?” He winks, and Nino makes a face. He jostles him forward before pulling out his phone. Adrien waits as the screen starts to boot up before opening to some new video game he hasn’t seen before.

Nino taps on the screen frantically. “Look at that! Look!”

“Calm down, I don’t know what I’m looking at!” Adrien laughs.

His best friend pauses, clutching at his heart. “What the hell, dude? Where have you been living your whole life? Don’t answer that; I know the answer is gonna be mega depressing. But it’s Ultimate Mecha Strike III! On my  _ phone!” _

“I’ve never played that before—”

“Let me guess.” Nino strokes his chin in thought. “Your old man thought video games cause violence and cancer. Well, my young prodigy, we’re going to  _ master  _ this one. Together!”

-

Despite the fact she  _ knows  _ it will kill her model smile, Chloe can’t stop grinding her teeth today. She will be  _ damned  _ if she loses both of the twins. Most of her childhood was spent waiting outside doors, waiting for a playmate, but when the Agrestes came over, every door opened again. 

And sure, Felix always acted more grown-up than both of them. She never bonded with him; Adrien, on the other hand, owned  _ (owns)  _ a part of her soul. Ever since they wandered through the hallways of the hotel, chubby fingers entwined and bright eyes glowing in the light of the chandelier, she made herself a promise. She was going to be the perfect sister to a boy who was too quiet, too tame in comparison to her… She was going to be the one who broke him out of his parents’ imposed quietness.

Yet, he sits over  _ there.  _ Next to the street urchin, Nino, and he laughs every five seconds. The two of them crowd around Nino’s phone screen (and she  _ knows  _ it’s Nino’s phone because it’s cracked, and Adrien doesn’t do cracked). Nino keeps describing everything going on in low, excited tones. 

Nino’s going to bring out all of the qualities Adrien  _ shouldn’t  _ have. Nobody cares about dorky puns and strange feats of athleticism. Adrien wants to make friends? Then she will make him into the perfect person, the person who  _ attracts  _ friends. And that person is cool and almost untouchable; people will want to  _ be  _ him… But not if he decides he’d rather hang out with Nino and become a hysterical nerd.

She doesn’t even need to worry about Felix; he’ll keep himself contained in the back of the room. He possesses the same coldness and ruthlessness Chloe has, and it’s the kind of attitude you need if you want to run the world.

As Felix walks through the classroom, she reaches out and grabs Sabrina’s wrist. The other girl yelps in surprise, dropping her phone onto the table. “We have to do something after school today. Tell your dad.”

“Shopping?” Sabrina perks up, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Then, she looks at Chloe’s face and deflates. “Not shopping.”

Chloe nods.  _ “Definitely  _ not shopping.”

“Who would have thought you’d take a break from throwing your money at everything that moves?” Felix pauses in front of their desk, giving Chloe a long look. He glowers at her, but all she focuses on are the bags underneath his eyes. Her hand floats to her purse where she keeps her makeup,  _ just  _ the right shade to match either Felix or Adrien.

Then, she reminds herself he’s being a bitch at the moment, and she needs to defend her honor. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Well, I figured since you always insist you’re so  _ special,  _ I’d give you special rules for my competition.” He uncovers his tablet and reveals an almost blank slide with angry red words across it.

She reads it once before gasping, loud enough to attract someone’s attention. Sabrina copies her. “And how, exactly, do you plan on enforcing this rule? If I want to enter a stupid hat in your competition, I can  _ absolutely  _ do so. I doubt your father will appreciate this addition to the rules, especially after  _ my  _ father brings it up. You know he’s especially  _ lenient  _ with Gabriel.”

“It’s amazing how I don’t give a rat’s ass about your father’s wishes. Besides, you only want to enter this competition to earn a ticket into Adrien’s pants,” Felix states calmly as if it’s a fact of life. The sky is blue, the beach has sand, and Chloe wants to screw Adrien.

As Sabrina starts to turn red beside her, Chloe lifts her nose into the air. “Excusez-moi, Felix, but I have no intention of that. I have standards, and to be frank, you simply don’t meet the cut.”

“And what a pity that is.” With that, he turns and struts up the stairs.

She hates the conviction in his voice. She hates that he just  _ assumes  _ she wants to get into Adrien’s pants. Sure, it’d be easier for all parties involved if she dated Adrien. Adrien wouldn’t be hounded by pesky teenage girls who get a little too grabby and Adrien, ever the pushover, says nothing. And she could be a shameless bitch, knowing that dating Adrien will make people question if she’s sweet deep,  _ deep  _ down.

Chloe likes to think she’s a shameless bitch deep down as well.

Her best friend scoots closer. “He was out of line—” 

“And you said  _ nothing?”  _ Chloe huffs. Casting Sabrina a judgmental look, she puts as much weight as possible into her next words. “Aren’t you supposed to be my best friend, Sabrina?”

“I am! I promise! I just…” She ducks her head, and her cheeks flood red. “It’s Felix—”

“How sweet. You have a crush on the Ice King? Good luck trying to get through to him. He’s never going to like you back.” Folding her arms over her chest, Chloe huffs and leans back in her seat. She ignores the way Sabrina starts to scramble in an inane attempt to justify her behavior. She doesn’t want to hear it. Who in this class  _ doesn’t  _ have a crush on either Felix or Adrien?

Chloe remains pouting well into the class, and she only pauses when Mr. Damocles walks in. She’s not  _ surprised,  _ per se, that Gabriel managed to pull off this much press. It does mean she gets hit with a good wave of disappointment, though. Now, she gets to watch Felix go to the front of the room and show off his presentation about making (of all things) derby hats for a competition.

Felix straightens as he clicks through the slide, becoming more and more like his father. He stands rigidly, and if it wasn’t for the fact he needed to click a button, he’d fold his hands behind his back. She hates the fact he’s the model intern, and she hates the fact he gets everything handed to him on a silver platter. After all,  _ he  _ matches their parents. He could run a hotel, run a business. 

Adrien and Chloe would both die.

As he gets to the end of the presentation, his eyes wander over to Adrien. “The challenge of this competition is the timeline. By six PM tonight, all derby hats must be finished and presented in the lobby of Le Grand Paris. Your presentation will be judged by none other than the great fashion designer and my… Father, Gabriel Agreste.”

She hears the pause, even if nobody else seems to. (That’s a bald-faced lie; Adrien hears it too. Felix and Gabriel have nothing but lost love for one another.)

“And our own student, my brother, Adrien Agreste, will be modelling the winning derby hat.”

And the derby hat atop Adrien’s head will be  _ hers…  _ One way or another.

-

The entire class, Marinette glances at the clock. Every two minutes drag onto two hours, and Marinette’s hands start working without her. In the margins of her classwork, she begins to create different forms of derby hats. Since Marinette doesn’t have any good ideas, she always reverts to the same plan. She starts to draw fashion based on the people around her. What kind of derby hat would she convince Nino to wear? Alya? 

When the bell rings, she springs to her feet. “We need to go to my secret garden, Alya!”

“‘Secret garden?’” Alya throws her bag over her shoulder before checking her phone. “As much as I want to know what  _ that  _ means, I can’t spend lunch with you this time around. My mom wants me home for lunch; I think I’m babysitting the twins while I eat which, you know, is  _ delightful.” _

“Oh… Is there anything I can do?” As they walk out of the classroom, Marinette swaps her notebook out for her sketchbook. Maybe, if she flips through the pages, she’ll stumble across a derby hat she forgot she designed! 

She shakes her head before plopping down on the bench. Patting the spot next to her, Alya widens her eyes and gives her the best saccharine smile. “Wait with me? My mom’s driving over to pick me up.”

“Sure! I need to go through this anyway.” Sitting right beside Alya, she spreads her sketchbook and begins to page through it. Since there’s no way to organize inspiration, she finds designs for hats sandwiched between scarves and dresses and shirts. She finds top hats, caps, two-horned hats, berets… “I don’t have any derby hat designs!”

“Just make one.” Alya leans over and drags a finger over one of her more elaborate designs. “You’re good at this kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, but not… Not  _ Gabriel Agreste  _ good at this kind of stuff! He designs everything in his brand name, and it’s a GABRIEL brand competition on designing? I have to be  _ amazing.  _ And I’m not going to be amazing.” Marinette reaches up to tug at the tips of her pigtails. “And I’ll make a total fool of myself, which will be embarrassing in front of my hero and Adrien and… I’m going to have to die on the spot, Alya! There’s no other choice!”

“I’m sure there’s another option besides death. And girl, you’re not going to embarrass yourself in front of Mister  _ Perfect.”  _ She winks at her, and Marinette’s cheeks flood with heat. For the past two days, she’s stuttered over herself and struggled to find the words she wants. All because of that stupid umbrella Adrien gave her with his stupid green eyes and his stupid smile and his stupid kindness and his stupid…

Marinette wilts against Alya as the other girl continues to page through her sketchbook. Alya reaches up and starts petting her hair, which reassures her more than she expected originally.

“Whoa, Alya.”

She recognizes the voice before she looks up. Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she almost launches it across the school. ‘ _ Play it cool, Marinette. Adrien doesn’t need to know how nervous you are about his brother’s competition.’ _

Adrien leans against the wall, and Marinette resents the fact (resentment usually gets shown through her heart pounding out of her chest as her hands shake) he strikes a model pose without trying. “Look at those designs. Who would’ve known you were Ladyblogger by day, fashion designer by night?”

“Thanks, but I’m a Ladyblogger day  _ and  _ night. And as much as I’d like to take the credit, these belong to Marinette.” Alya flips the book shut to display the cover. In the corner, Marinette wrote her name. Once upon a time, she read all the greats made sure they incorporated their names into their designs. As a sort of failsafe. On the first page of the sketchbook, she worked out eight different patterns to spell out  _ Marinette;  _ that way, she can keep a unique vibe to each work rather than one, unifying signature on every piece.

Adrien turns his full attention to her, and his smile lights up his entire face. While it’s still polite, it never fails to reach his eyes. It reminds her of Chat Noir’s smiles. While Chat grins so big it might crack his face in half, there’s an almost feral element entering his green eyes. His whole body gets caught up with glee while Adrien remains composed.

Wait, was Adrien talking? Her head darts up, and she shuffles her feet. Alya gestures for her to say something while Adrien keeps waiting, so Marinette blurts out the first thing which comes to mind. “I like, uh, yeah… Designs that… Are eternal? Yeah, that’s it! My favorite designs are eternal!”

“Eternal?” Adrien repeats to himself. Alya sniggers.

She got herself into  _ this  _ one. When it comes to talking fashion, if Marinette doesn’t plan out the speeches, she gets too passionate over small elements. “Eternal, like… They transcend time? So I can, like, fiddle with old trends and new ones and… This sounds really stupid, but—”

“It doesn’t!” Adrien interrupts. When he realizes he did, though, he brushes a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t sound dumb, I promise. I grew up with a fashion designer after all. Using words to describe clothing that I wouldn’t think of goes with the job description. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe I’ll be wearing your derby tonight.”

“Maybe—”

“Adrien, I don’t have time for your chit-chat today. You promised you’d run home to grab me something…” Felix pauses in front of the two of them. His eyes sweep over the sketchbook, still lying open in her lap. “Scoping out the talent already? Some might accuse you of favoritism.”

“Sorry, Fe.” Adrien follows his brother obediently out of the school, but when he glances over his shoulder, he offers one of his small smiles again. Marinette beams despite the slushy mess of embarrassment she’s melting into. 

Alya nudges her. “Girl, hearing you try to describe your clothing was like an Olympic event in itself. You gotta work on that.”

“It’s just that it’s  _ Adrien.”  _ She sighs before perking up. “Do you think I really  _ am  _ one of his favorites?”

“Let’s just say,” Alya smirks, “I didn’t get such a personal apology after the whole gum incident. Sure, you helped to convince me to take a chance on him, but… I think you got a shot if you want to take it.”

“One day,” she promises her friend. Marinette closes her sketchbook and throws it into her bookbag, getting to her feet. “C’mon, let’s go wait outside. I think I need some air to get my brain to start functioning again!”

-

Contrary to what his mother says, Nathaniel  _ likes  _ being alone. That’s the only reason he eats alone at lunch. That, and the librarians only allow students to eat at one table. 

Felix Agreste sitting at his table, though, causes some problems.

Nathaniel eases into the seat across the green-eyed monster, setting up his lunch. He keeps his head ducked to avoid any potential eye contact. When the other boy says nothing, he places his sketchbook open on the table. Felix continues tapping away at the screen; Nathaniel dares to look up in time to see the other boy scowls at his tablet. Nathaniel can  _ never  _ look up again.

He fishes the first thing out of his bag. The act of unzipping is too loud for the absolute silence surrounding them… But, of course, it’s an apple. It’s  _ impossible  _ to chew quietly on an apple. With each crunch beneath his teeth, Nathaniel feels his face growing redder and redder. 

At this point, he feels Felix’s eyes drift from his face to his sketchbook.  _ No.  _ Nathaniel grits his teeth and presses his pencil down harder. Every time someone initiates a conversation, it goes straight to  _ ‘so, you want to be an artist when you grow up?’  _ Sometimes, people jump to  _ ‘oh! Draw me now!’  _ Nathaniel hates answering either way and stammers his way through a mess of words.

The blond clears his throat. “Nathaniel, right?”

“Yeah.” He keeps his eyes on the sketchbook, adding another line to the sketch of Le Paon. For the past week, Nathaniel tried to master drawing superheroes. He never attempted it before Stoneheart. Out of the three, Le Paon offers the greatest intrigue…  _ And  _ the greatest challenge. His design pops in the way the others’ don’t. Ladybug feels a tad basic, and Chat Noir dons too much leather. 

Nathaniel glances up for a moment, and Felix stares at the page still. He grabs his cup of coffee (on the side of the cup, someone wrote FELIX in all cups with a smiley face) and takes a long sip before continuing the painful conversation. “Le Paon, huh?”

“Mhm,” Nathaniel hums in return. Maybe if he keeps up the facade of being busy, Felix will give up on the interrogation. While the easiest way to force his attention away would be to close his sketchbook, Nathaniel thought about this during class. He stole a lot more glances at the costume for inspiration, for realism, and Nathaniel doesn’t want to start all over with his mental image.

The blond reaches across the table, stabbing his index finger into the corner of the page. “May I see?”

_ No. _

“I guess.” Nathaniel slides the sketchbook across the table, but he keeps his eyes trained on the same place. Meeting Felix’s eyes seems like a death sentence.

Felix traces a line on the sketch before propping his head on his fist. It’s obvious, as the boy tries to stifle a yawn, he’ll fall asleep soon enough. Inexplicably, Nathaniel grabs his phone to set an alarm; he won’t stay in the library when the other boy is asleep. That’d be weird… They’re not friends, after all. “This is good… This is the second good piece of art I’ve seen all day. You won’t believe some of the shit designs people are playing with for the competition.”

“Didn’t know models were allowed to swear,” Nathaniel comments under his breath. He startles the moment Felix lets out a quiet laugh. 

He watches Felix stroke a finger over the feather on Le Paon’s mask. “I’m not the model. Adrien is. I’m just the long-suffering intern. So I happen to be allowed to swear.”

“Long-suffering  _ intern?”  _ Nathaniel asks. “I think, out of the two of us, I’m suffering worse. After all, the archetype is starving artists.”

“I could have sworn you just ate an apple,” Felix muses. “I’m pretty sure you’re not starving.”

“And I could have sworn you just smiled.” Lifting his head the rest of the way, he meets Felix’s eyes, which gleam sharply in the library light. “You didn’t suffer for more than five minutes.”

Nathaniel reminds himself this boldness stems from the fact that Felix could fall asleep at any given moment. When it comes down to it, he could always tell people Felix dreamt it up… Oh, who’s Nathaniel kidding? Who would Felix attempt to tell? They’ve sat next to each other for four days now, and Felix still had to confirm his name was Nathaniel. Felix clearly doesn’t care about any social aspect of school.

Felix grabs the corner of a page. “May I look through these?”

“It’s a mess.” And he won’t be interested in the portraits. Most of them are dedicated to his classmates, and the most recent pages belong to the new kids in varying degrees—Adrien’s the most fun to draw, followed by Alya, and Felix barely got a line on a page.

Felix shrugs. “What isn’t?”

“A lot of things?” offers Nathaniel.

Felix rolls his eyes. “It’s a metaphor… Hey, wait, is this my brother?”

Great, now Felix will think he’s just another Agreste fangirl (like half the class). In the photo, he drew Adrien beaming as he looked over his shoulder. His backpack holds the main focus, though, because it held the most interest. He got to draw the lighting off the buttons and the different shapes, sizes. 

“Yeah,” he reluctantly admits.

He raises an eyebrow. “He looks like such a little shit in this.” Felix notes the befuddlement and waves his hand. “It’s a good thing. All his modeling ads act like he’s some sort of angel. I’m glad you saw through that act.”

Before Nathaniel can come up with an adequate response to that, Felix flips through the next pages. He barely glances at Marinette and Alya gossiping or Ivan having Mylene cuddled underneath his arm… As he pages through the sketchbook, his head drifts closer and closer to the desk. His eyelids flutter shut at some point, and Nathaniel moves to get up.

Felix’s eyelids snap open. “Don’t let me scare you off.”

“You’re the least intimidating person in the class.” But Nathaniel sits down again.

He shakes his head. “Don’t assign me that extreme. I know for a fact I scared you in the beginning… And I’m much scarier than Mylene at the very least.”

“Well, turns out you’re not that scary.”

“I could ruin your life if I wanted to,” Felix says.

In the time Nathaniel searches for a response, Felix falls asleep on his sketchbook. He doesn’t pull it out from underneath the boy though. Unless he starts drooling, he’ll let Felix sleep. 

The long-suffering intern and the starving artist. Huh.

-

Kim’s not an idiot. He knows what kind of reputation surrounds him; most of the girls consider him a player, and most of the boys consider him an airhead. He’s a fun airhead to be around, and he’s a fun player to be around, but nobody ever claims he can be anything more than a mixture of those two things.

Max once told him he feared Kim played into these stereotypes. When he hung out with Chloe, he fawned over her every move. He teases Mylene despite Ivan’s apparent crush on her, and he winks at Alya when the occasion arises. And with the boys, he let anyone else take the lead. Most of the time, it was Max. Max was the brains of the operation, and he was just the brawn. 

It didn’t matter because Kim would, at the very least, always get back up again. His reputation as someone who kept trying, again and again, picked up more traction than anything else. People looked past those flaws, looked past those mistakes, because Kim was loyal and dedicated.

Kim lays on his back, staring up at the sky. The two of them still haven’t taken the time to roll up the blue mats. Alix sits by his side, stabbing the fencing weapon’s tip into the crack in the mats, again and again. Her frustration’s intense.

Intense enough he rolls over and offers a charming smile. “Who knew being homeschooled would make that kid such a badass?”

“He only stayed for, like, five minutes. And he bested  _ both  _ of us.” Alix scowls down at her shoes. “We’re supposed to be the reigning champions, and he just…  _ Walked in and stole it.  _ How the hell is he that good?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. He’s a badass…” Kim pauses. “He said we were pretty good too.”

“He was humoring us. We built ourselves up as legends, and he clearly saw that we weren’t in comparison to him.” She gives up on the stabbing and tosses the weapon aside.

He watches it hit against the mat before rolling to a stop. “It’s a good thing. We’re a team, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Rolling her eyes, Alix twists to look him in the eye. She raises her voice into falsetto to impersonate Ondine, and Kim presses his lips together to stop the smile from coming out.  _ It’s not funny, it’s not funny, it’s not funny. “‘Alix, we all have to be team players. We’re all important in our own ways.’” _

“It’s true,” he starts.

She shakes her head. “Is it? A team’s only as good as its weakest link. Our  _ importance  _ is in our skill, and apparently, our skill is shit compared to Adrien’s. Just… What the actual, literal hell?”

“He’s good.” An idea hits him, and Kim springs to his feet. Grabbing the fallen épée, he waves it around. “But we’re gonna be better. C’mon, Alix, spar with me.”

“Spar with you? You’re nowhere near his level.”

“Which is why it should be easier for you to beat me. Unless… Unless you’re a  _ coward.”  _ Kim tucks one hand under his armpit and squawks like a chicken. It’s enough to get a fire glowing in Alix’s eyes, and it’s enough to get her climbing to her feet, reaching forward to grab the épée Adrien left behind.

She grins. “Well, come on then.”

The round lasts longer than it ought to. Every time Alix almost wins, he manages to fake her out. Every time he wins, she demands a rematch. And after she demanded the rematch, he could demand one of his own. 

“So much for kicking my ass,” Kim says, panting and smiling behind his helmet. He knows Alix can’t see it, but he also knows his smile shines through in his voice. His mom said she could always tell after fencing matches what his facial expressions were, just by his voice. 

Alix’s smile cuts through the mask too. “Just you wait.”

He goes to lunge at her, but he steps strangely. His whole body tenses and freezes, a phantom pain wrapping his ankle. The ache echoes eerily throughout his bones. Kim staggers to a halt, and Alix manages to stop herself before ramming him in the chest. 

“What the hell, Kim?” she asks. Then, she reaches up and pushes his helmet off. “What the hell?”

“Do…” He manages to get the words past his gritted teeth. The pain’s gone. Ladybug healed it. He didn’t need to go through the months of recovery; he didn’t potentially lose fencing season. Ivan no longer thunders after him as a raging monster (though he still flinches every time Ivan enters a room. And he still flinches every time Ivan raises his voice. And he still flinches when Ivan speaks, but that’s  _ fine  _ because maybe Kim’s just really excitable and his flinches are just… Little jumps of joy, as he explained to Max). “Do you think this will ever help us? Against… Against, like, an akuma?”

“What? Like Stoneheart?” Alix refuses to call Stoneheart Ivan.

Kim only calls Stoneheart Ivan in his head. How can he separate the two? He bullied Ivan, so Ivan bullied him back. “Yeah.”

“Your ankle’s fine,” Alix says.

He nods. “I know.”

“Everything’s fine.” Her voice comes more forcefully, and he looks down at her. She stares back at him and folds her arms over her chest. “What the hell, Kim?”

“It just… Sometimes, it feels weird. Like, my body isn’t hurt, but my mind thinks I’m gonna hurt myself anyway. Like when you yank your hand back after sticking it in hot water? It’s just…” He fumbles for the word. “Weird.”

Alix stares at him for a long moment, searching for something to say. Then, she shrugs. “It does.”

“What?”

“It does help. Have you seen Chat Noir? Him and that baton… That’s épée technique if I’ve ever seen it. Who do you think would win? Adrien or Chat Noir? Because I think it’d be a formidable fight at the very least.”

Kim gapes at her. She nudges him in the ribs, and he hurries to get out an answer. “I think it’d be a badass fight to watch.”

“That’s a copout answer,” she responds without skipping a beat.

He knows what she’s doing. He knows he’s an idiot, but he also knows he  _ knows  _ Alix. She doesn’t want to hear the mushy stuff about how he’s still panicked about Ivan. She wants to talk about épées and fencing, and he’ll be damned if she doesn’t get what she wants.

Kim smiles, tentatively. “Chat Noir, duh.”

-

When Sabrina could barely walk, she toddled after her father and imitated anything that came out of his mouth. She’s not self-involved, not like her best friend. She knew exactly when her mother left, knew exactly  _ why  _ her mother left, knew exactly how much it stung. And she knew, unlike Chloe, the person she needed to be was her father, not her absentee mother. Chloe pretends moms leaving comes with a mystery, a mystery to be embraced. Sabrina embraces reality, and reality digs knives into your skin.

Because, in reality, moms leave you behind when you’re still toddling. In reality, the only family you have is your father, and your father works all the time in an attempt to provide for the two of you. In reality, the world doesn’t look kindly on short, redheaded girls who don’t belong on the cover of a magazine, so she might as well follow behind a slender, blonde who could pass as a model.

And Sabrina learns her father’s steadfast dedication, and she devoted herself to a cause. Sure, maybe her devotion deviates differently than her father’s. She doesn’t train herself on laws and enforcing them. Instead, Sabrina models herself into the perfect friend for Chloe… Maybe, one day, somebody else would notice how perfect she is as a friend, and she’ll become popular.

_ (But in reality, popularity picks pretty, slender, blonde girls.) _

Chloe and Sabrina sit together on a bench, giant floppy hats and sunglasses on. From behind, Marinette won’t be able to tell the difference between them and other pedestrians. They just need her to finish before their lunch break is done. Sabrina would like to get some food before going back to school; otherwise, she’ll be hungry all day. The only thing they’ve eaten so far has been ice cream from Andre.

“When is she going to finish that hat? It’s taking forever,” Chloe gripes. She flicks through her phone, and Sabrina looks over her shoulder to spot Instagram. Scooting closer, Sabrina tries to glance at the photos at the same time. Chloe zooms through most of them, though, only pausing to like an occasional photo from people Sabrina  _ knows  _ she likes.

She pauses and tilts her phone towards Sabrina. “Did your dad take that one?”

“Oh, yeah! First day of school photos, you know?” She smiles awkwardly. Her father likes documenting everything he can, and this is the first time she posted the photo on Instagram. Every time she puts one up, all Sabrina does is pour over every flaw in her face. Is that a pimple forming? Are her lips chapped? Is her hair sticking up in every direction like usual? What’s going on?

Chloe nods. “It looks nice. I mean, not as nice as  _ mine  _ but… It’s nice.”

“Thanks!” Sabrina beams before tapping at Chloe’s phone. “Yours looked better than mine, definitely. I really—”

“YES!”

Both of them spun around at the same time, glancing over to find Marinette holding her sketchbook high in the air. The feather, the one she held diligently ever since the man ran off in a huff, flutters to the ground. Slapping her hand against the feather, Marinette glances down at her bag with a huge smile. 

Chloe nods at Sabrina, and she eases off the bench and approaches Marinette as quietly as possible. She doesn’t dare to breathe as she pulls out her own phone. As her feet slide over the sidewalk, Sabrina tries to glance at the sketchbook before taking the photo.

The second she sees it, she  _ knows  _ Marinette won this competition. While Sabrina doesn’t get a chance to wear clothing from any major fashion brands—her father, after all, is a police officer—Chloe makes sure to keep her up to date. After all, Chloe’s mom runs  _ Style Queen.  _ And this derby hat? This derby hat could be on the front cover of  _ Style Queen  _ without anyone doubting its merit.

One way or another, Marinette’s hat will join the GABRIEL brand. 

Sabrina presses her phone screen, and the screen flickers black as it takes the photo. It clicks just loud enough to get Marinette to look over her shoulder. As Sabrina flings herself just out of eyesight, she can hear the other girl climb to her feet.

Marinette hums some Jagged Stone song to herself, and she walks past them without noticing. The second she’s out of earshot, Sabrina plops down beside Chloe and displays the photo. “We are  _ so  _ awesome.”

“We?” Chloe yanks the phone from her, forwarding the photo to herself with ease.

Shuffling her feet, she tries to find the words to explain the pride rising in her (and ignore the shame). The photo is so crisp, so clear for a stealthy shot. It’s much better than any of Alya’s on the Ladyblog. Her father always told her she had steady hands, and the clean edges really prove her worth. Instead, Sabrina looks up with a forced smile. _ “You  _ are so awesome.”

“I know. Sab, we’re going to win and be at the top of the world by the end of tonight. I just need to get Daddy to find someone to make this hat for me.” Chloe notes Sabrina’s questioning look. “What? Do you  _ see  _ my nails? I’m not going to make it myself!”

“Right, I knew that!” she laughs desperately.

Her best friend gets to her feet, and Sabrina springs to her feet. As the two of them start to walk back towards the school, probably to swing by the cafeteria, Chloe offers a small smile. “And, with all the free time we got since I  _ don’t  _ have to make the hat, the two of us can go shopping after school.”

“Really?”

“I promise.” Chloe sniffs. “And we can discuss other  _ suitable  _ options for your crush rather than the jackass, Felix Agreste.”

“Understood!”

Sometimes, her dedication pays off. Sometimes, her dedication makes more sense than anything else in the world, and the puzzle pieces slot together without any struggles. That’s why Sabrina does it. For these little moments, which scream louder than the rest of the moments.

Then, Chloe starts to trip, and she wraps her arms around her best friend. “Chloe!”

“Why is there a damn pigeon there?!” shrieks Chloe. She shoves Sabrina away before pausing, mouth dropping open.

A cluster of pigeons settle in front of them, all eyes trained on them. Chloe ducks behind Sabrina while Sabrina struggles to find her words. How can there be so many of the gray birds…?

“Akuma,” both girls say at once.

-

It’s a pigeon man today, and Chat is  _ royally  _ screwed.

He sprawled on the roof after eating lunch, bathing in the sun. The light curled beneath his skin even through the leather. Plagg warned him of his cat-like qualities, but he didn’t mention how good the  _ sun  _ feels. And he could stay in this sunbeam  _ forever—  _

Pigeons, right. Eyes on the prize. Definitely not eyes on his nose, which feels to be swelling and turning bright red the longer he waits. The snot definitely doesn’t feel suffocating or, like, disgusting. It’s a good look on him considering he’ll have a photoshoot after school. Maybe he’ll force Felix to pose as him because apparently, DNA only hates him.

Ladybug lands upon the roof, crouched and poised. Her head turns upwards slightly, the sun dancing across the red spots on her mask. A bemused look flits across her face as the pigeons form an airplane, and she bites her bottom lip in wonderment. His heart thunders the moment he sees it, sending waves of electricity rushing through him.

Then, a sea of pigeons descend upon them, the feathers scattering like raindrops. One brushes against Chat’s nose, and he pushes it away. The itching rises from the spot it touched, and his eyes water. Closing his eyes, he tries to fight it. Then, the sneeze explodes out, and he loses his balance.

He lands against Ladybug’s feet. “Birds of a feather flock together.”

“Looking hot today,” teases Ladybug while she helps him up.

Chat sneezes again, pawing at his nose. “I’m allergic to feathers.”

Her nose scrunches up, and he can see the gears turning in her head. “But Le Paon never bothered you before.”

“Magic feathers?” He shrugs.

“Most likely.” Le Paon lands in front of them. As he ducks his fans back into the pockets of his coat, he offers a sly smirk. “You look great, Chat.”

“There’s enough of me to go around.” Chat slides between the two of them, flicking his tail slightly. He can be smooth and subtle and— 

Chat Noir sneezes three times in a row, gasping for breath by the end. It takes him a few seconds to realize Le Paon caught him by his scruff. He laughs before pushing away, offering another shrug. “I guess I’m going to need  _ tweet _ ment.”

“Cute kitty, but… You sure you’re up to this fight? Me and Le Paon…” Ladybug hesitates before finishing. “We could probably handle it.”

“Fluffy the Pigeon is hardly the most pressing issue right now,” drawls Le Paon. When he notes the identical looks of confusion on their faces, he rolls his eyes. “Didn’t you realize? All of the park keepers in Paris keep disappearing.”

“Fluffy the Pigeon is no Stoneheart,” Chat agrees.

Ladybug nods to herself before humming. “Maybe Hawkmoth realizes his first akuma was too ambitious. He can’t ruin the city twice a week… That’d make him a terrorist, and he tried to play the superhero by calling us thieves, among other things. Fluffy must only be going for our Miraculouses.”

“Well, that’ll make this easier, milady!” laughs Chat. He runs a hand through his hair, making sure to ruffle it a little. “I’ll be able to manage, promise. Just a little under the weather.”

“Keep that ring of yours safe.” Le Paon’s eyes dart to his hand.

He forms fists, glancing at the band. He’s not going to lose Plagg any time soon. He’d have to be an idiot to lose one of the best parts of his life. So, Chat knows he might be sneezing himself over the rooftops, and he might be guaranteed to be miserable for the next few nights but… It’ll be fine in the long run. If he can model when sick, he can fight when sick.

Ladybug places a hand on his shoulder. “I trust you, kitty. So, we have no idea where the park keepers are.”

“Unless you’re hiding something from me,” jokes Chat.

She ignores him. “What about Pathfinder?”

“And detransform before the fight’s even begun?” The hero shakes his head. “Besides, they don’t matter. We get Fluffy, we get the park keepers.”

“The cage might be human-built though,” argues Ladybug. “That means the park keepers will still be trapped even once we de-akumatized him. If you won’t use Pathfinder…” Her eyes find Chat’s and light up. “We could dress Chat up as a park keeper! Fluffy will steal him away and lead us  _ straight  _ to the cage.”

“Fluffy would have to be an idiot to buy any one of us is a park keeper. We’ll end up using Pathfinder if we use that. If we just hunt down Mr. Pigeon, who’s being  _ obvious,  _ we can skip this whole step!”

“Le Paon, we’re calling him  _ ‘Fluffy,’  _ and his powers are coming through pigeons. He’s an idiot. And we can’t just leave the innocent park keepers there! And even if the cage will disappear after we win, it’s a matter of humanity!”

“So we should waste time helping a small minority of people and allow the majority to get terrorized by Fluffy? Besides, the  _ tail  _ will be a tip-off.”

“We can’t just go fight right away! We don’t understand the situation yet!”

Chat slips back, allowing himself just to take in the firefight between Ladybug and Le Paon. Stoneheart certainly didn’t bring this quality out in them before. But Ladybug is,  _ was,  _ the established leader for a short period of time… Right until Le Paon came in guns blazing, seeking maturity opposed to the childish fun the two shared for that brief period of time.

After they fight for awhile, Chat clears his throat. “Okay, I’ve let the adults talk long enough. Let’s make a deal. We can try LB’s plan, and next week, we can do LP’s.”

“Fine, Ladybug, I see I’m outnumbered here.” Le Paon rolls his eyes pointedly. “But when it fails, and your plan  _ will  _ fail, and Fluffy comes swooping down from the sky to fight us… I expect you will let me lead the next akuma fight.”

“And  _ when  _ it works,” snaps Ladybug, “I get to plan the next akuma battle without  _ this  _ being a battle.”

Chat claps his hands together. “That seems like a fair compromise! So, let’s go get me a hat to hide my  _ fantastic  _ mane.”

“This plan is dumb,” Le Paon says as they start to leap from rooftop to rooftop.

Ladybug huffs. “I don’t care if it’s dumb or not. It matters that we save the park keepers. If that means it takes longer to purify the akuma, then that’s what it means.”

“Purifying the akuma  _ will  _ save the park keepers. What are we saving them from? Future claustrophobia?”

“Yeah. Heaven forbid I try to protect citizens from the psychological element of akumas.”

“This is going to be fun,” Chat says louder than their argument.

-

“This,” Le Paon announces, “is never going to work.” 

“Have some faith,” counters Ladybug. Both of them hide in the trees, obscured by the leaves. This way, when Mr. Pigeon captures Chat Noir, he won’t find them as well. Dolling him up in the uniform proved…  _ Difficult.  _ She tucked his ears beneath the hat, only keeping his blonde hair in view, and she instructed him to lean against the tree to hide the tail.

Chat struggles with standing still, itching with anticipation. His shoulders shake a little, taking disgusting breaths through his nose. Yet, when he looks up into the leaves, he lets a cheesy grin flit upon his face. His nose only grows redder and redder. “I have faith in you, bugaboo.”

“Thank you, Chat, but you need to act natural.” A fond smile crosses her face. Le Paon’s concern for Chat Noir is as palpable as her own, making it clear that neither of them turns a blind eye to his allergies. Yet, they  _ need  _ Chat. The nightly patrols proved Chat works as the glue of the team, the  _ heart  _ of the team.

He bounces on his heels. “Right. You can admire me from  _ afar  _ this way.”

“I didn’t sign on to watch for lovebirds,” Le Paon mutters under his breath. “Thought we were looking for pigeons.”

“He’s coming,” assures Ladybug. Sure, the downtime is a little… Disappointing. And she’s certain if they wait just five more minutes, Fluffy won’t need to fight them. Le Paon and her will rip each other apart. Sure, Ladybug’s a little more irritable today than most of the time due to the fact her derby hat isn’t  _ done yet,  _ but what’s Le Paon’s excuse?

Chat takes a hitched, short breath. “Yes! Hi, pigeon! Whoo…  _ ACHOO!” _

Still, the pigeon alert is all they need. Ladybug starts to stand up, following the path of the pigeon. It gathers a mob of its friends until it forms a mass in the air, forming an arrow pointing at Chat’s head. They’re luring Fluffy to the ‘park keeper.’

Which is exactly what Ladybug planned for!

She turns to Le Paon. “We got his attention.”

“I don’t buy it,” he retorts.

Ladybug rolls her eyes. No matter what she says, she suspects Le Paon will be painfully contrary. She understands the rush of being a superhero, how it feels to fill the shoes of someone in power. But Tikki warned her of responsibility, how assuming leadership will bring the same good luck to the others. The past Ladybugs had to do that. If she didn’t, would she be a failure at this as well?

The argument brewing between them gets effectively silenced when Chat sneezes hard enough to fall flat on his ass.

The swarm of pigeons carries… A strange man, to say the least. He wears a costume modeling a pigeon, with pink spandex sticking to his neck and the gray body fanning outwards. Whoever bothers to design the akuma costume needs to work on their fashion skills.

The fashion designer in  _ her  _ wants to redesign her costume. Yet, she still adores it. It’s reminiscent of  _ superheroes,  _ and she knows superheroes aren’t meant to be fashion stars. Look at  _ Spider-Man’s  _ suit. If he models himself off a spider, she can model herself off a ladybug.

Le Paon clears his throat. “If Fluffy came to  _ us,  _ then enjoy the passenger seat for the next akuma fight.”

“This one isn’t over yet,” mutters Ladybug.

He smirks. “Last I checked, wasn’t your plan to get Fluffy to get us to the park keepers? Where’s the park keepers, Ladybug?”

“Turpy day, heroes!” cries Fluffy, flailing his arms in a semblance of wings.

The mask of Hawkmoth almost appears instantly upon his face, the neon purple sending a wave of anger through her blood. She absolutely hates Hawkmoth in a way she didn't think possible—she realizes now she never really hated Chloe. With every appearance Hawkmoth makes, she feels the anger pulse in unison with an intense sadness. She can’t let the park keepers develop claustrophobia from the cage…

He’ll akumatize them for that because you can’t feel without becoming a villain.

“Your Miraculouses!” The man thrusts forward his hand, a sea of pigeons rising. “Give them to me, or face the wrath of my feathered friends.”

“Pigeons,” deadpans Le Paon as they drop beside Chat. “Oh no.”

“As a fellow aviphile, I thought you’d understand.” The man  _ tsks.  _ “Attack!”

The birds spring to life, scratching and clawing at them. Ladybug growls as talons catch on her cheeks, Le Paon kicks and swats at them, and Chat disappears in a sea of sneezes.

Ladybug wiggles free from the pigeons just in time to see him retreating. “Chicken!”

“Where?” Chat asks, voice thick.

“I’m just killing two birds with one stone!” Fluffy makes a cry in the back of his throat. Clustering around him, the pigeons shove him back into the sky and drift away.

A beak snaps around her earlobe, dangerously close to the earring, and Ladybug howls. Swinging her yo-yo furiously, she clamps her hand over her bloodied ear. “Latch on and prepare for turbulence!” 

Le Paon’s hand clamps around her elbow, and Chat hangs onto her ankle. They’re airborne within moments, sending the pigeons squawking away from them. She can feel the two shifting about from where they cling to her. When she dares to look back at them, Chat swings his baton at the pigeons like a baseball bat, and Le Paon sends his darts to scatter the pigeons.

They crash upon a roof. With panicked and unsure movements, Chat jumps on both of them. The birds pass above their heads as they flatten against the cool title, the squawks going from aggressive to confused.

The moment calm settles, Le Paon clears his throat. “So Ladybug’s plan failed.”

“Excuse you?” Ladybug bats her eyelashes innocently. “Wasn’t your plan to find Fluffy and face him head-on? We just found him, we just fought him, we just  _ lost.” _

“My plan would have been better formulated than that shitshow!” Le Paon exclaims.

Heat swelters up in her cheeks. “Your plan would have resulted in the same, Paon!”

“No, my plan would have been  _ much  _ better! I wouldn’t have based my entire plan on Chat looking different in a  _ hat and jacket!” _

Ladybug stomps up to him. “And if we wouldn’t have wasted time and just did Pathfinder in the beginning, we could have found the park keepers and be done already! But  _ no,  _ you have to be in the middle of the fight—” 

“Guys!” Chat loudly calls, getting both of them to snap  _ ‘what’  _ in his direction. He offers a shit-eating, his tail swishing. “What if we just… Follow the pigeons?”

-

Atop an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, Le Paon wonders if there’s a camera trained on him. Because  _ honestly.  _ This has to be some horrible, low-budget movie, right? Between Fluffy the Pigeon Man and a shady warehouse with a cage of park keepers hidden inside, he’s just waiting for a mustached man to come out and cackle at them.

The three gather around the window, eyes scanning the crowd below. Ladybug’s ear has been bandaged by a quick pitstop to a grocery store, Chat Noir popped a few pills, and Le Paon has a sleeve of bandages wrapped around his arms. They’re a bit of a mess, but they’re  _ here. _

Speaking of that, he can  _ feel  _ Adrien’s delight. Chat glances over at him the moment he thinks that. “Man, my back hurts from carrying the team today!”

“We haven’t done it yet, kitty,” mutters Ladybug.

Le Paon nods in agreement, but  _ both  _ of them know Chat somehow won with the brilliance suggestion of… Following pigeons. Mon dieu, he can’t live this down.

Chat sniffles abruptly until Ladybug places her hand over his nose. They’re so strangely  _ domestic.  _ Le Paon never realized how annoying that’d be until this very moment. How can they already be this close when Le Paon and Chat didn’t connect this well, and they’re  _ twins? _

File that as question five hundred for Duusu.

“Pigeon radar,” Chat replies, eyes averted.

Ladybug hums a little. “I bet he left his little watchdogs to guard this place. The park keepers, you know… He wouldn’t leave them unattended. But he doesn’t want to be here either. He’s probably out terrorizing a dog park.”

“Fluffy vs Puppy, who will win?” Chat jokes, nudging Ladybug.

Le Paon clears his throat, forcing their attention back on him. “Peacock vs Pigeon, who will win? Oh, wait, it’s going to be me.”

As he makes to go inside the window, Chat latches onto the back of his collar. With a sheepish smile, his twin brother shrugs a little. “Cats and birds are  _ natural  _ enemies. So it’d be a  _ purr _ fect fight if I went first, right?”

“And ladybugs and birds are natural enemies.” Ladybug hums again. “We can’t just strut in there and fight again. We need a game plan—” 

“His bird call then,” he suggests without skipping a beat; he’s  _ going  _ to come up with a winning plan this time. There is no way in hell he’s going to let Ladybug take control. They need to finish this fight as soon as possible. He  _ might  _ be tired, but he still has to go to the judging of the hats, and Adrien needs to get ready to model. “That has the akuma.”

“Me and Paon can distract the pigeons,” Chat comments. “And LB can go get the bird call!”

“I have a  _ better  _ idea,” interrupts Le Paon. Better than being used as bait for Ladybug, at least. “You were set on me using Pathfinder, but you haven’t used Lucky Charm yet. We know  _ exactly  _ what we need to do now. No point in keeping the element of surprise still.”

Ladybug nods slowly. She clears her throat as she swings up her yo-yo, letting the shower of heart-shaped sparkles.  _ “Lucky Charm!” _

When the yo-yo returns, it carries a bag of popcorn with it. The three of them stare at it while Ladybug cradles the bag against her chest. Then, she snaps her fingers. “Don’t feed the pigeons!”

“That was a better impression of a park keeper than Chat had,” drawls Le Paon slowly.

Ladybug passes the bag of popcorn to Le Paon. “I’ll go get the item. You just distract Fluffy and his people.”

“You got it, bugaboo!” Chat replies while Le Paon rolls his eyes. He shoves his brother away with his shoulder, forcing him out of the way. When he whips the window open, a feather rushes out and gets his brother sneezing almost instantly. Le Paon smiles at Chat briefly before following Ladybug in, landing hard against the ground.

Le Paon glances over at Chat as he lands beside him, shoving the bag of popcorn at him. Mon dieu, he  _ knows  _ who is best at sports, and it’ll always be his brother. “You have a better arm than me. Chuck this over there, and I’ll rip it open with a dart. That’s bound to distract the pigeons.”

“I have a bone to pick with you!” cries Fluffy when he notices them, thrusting his hands forward and letting pigeons surround them like mitts… He’s  _ so  _ strange.

“Now!” On Le Paon’s signal, Chat chucks the bag of popcorn, pieces flying out immediately and gaining the attention of the pigeons. As the birds begin to flap towards it, still reluctant to leave Fluffy’s side, Le Paon lets his right eye flutter shut and aims. Then, a dart spirals out of the fan and shreds through the red and white bag.

Ladybug charges forward, diving through the open air. Using her yo-yo to give her more leverage, it wraps around a wooden pole above, sending her flying forward. Her feet smash against Fluffy’s chest, sending him backwards and skidding across the ground. Within a second, her hand wraps tightly around the necklace and snaps it away from him. She chucks it over her shoulder as Fluffy begins to get up and start raging a war against the heroine. “Chat!”

“On it!” He bounces upwards, extending his baton to give the last bit of momentum needed.

Fluffy coos loudly. “Pigeons to him!”

Before Le Paon even has a chance to look over, preoccupied with clipping the wings of pigeons, his brother lets out a loud sneeze. The call makes a skipping, skidding noise as it bounces across the warehouse floor. 

Ladybug growls beneath her breath, using her yo-yo to twine up Fluffy. A few pigeons swamp over her, pecking and biting at her. Her cheeks ooze with crimson, and her mood swells out aggressively. “Get the damn thing!”

“On it!” Le Paon slides across the floor, extending his feet out. He stomps on the bird call with his heel. The second it shatters into pieces, the purple butterfly pushes against his boot. Ladybug leaps forward, untangling the yo-yo from Fluffy and letting him spin from the efforts. It catches the purple akuma in seconds.

She grins.  _ “Miraculous Ladybug!” _

Within seconds, the pigeons flutter away to resume their usual activities. The cage disappears around the park keepers, and the injuries inflicted knit themselves up. Le Paon quickly unwraps the bandage winding up his arm, revealing the clean skin and fixed costume. The red in Ladybug’s face belongs solely to the adrenaline now, and Chat’s eyes look significantly less puffy.

He bounces over to them, holding out his fist expectantly. The two exchange a look, not quite forgiveness but a willingness to get over it, before copying the gesture. “Pound it!”

-

The lobby of  _ Le Grand Paris  _ holds column upon column of hats. Some give hers a run for her money, and others look sloppily thrown together. Adrien and Felix already twine through the columns, Felix marking notes on a clipboard. Their mentor of sorts, a woman with a tight bun but a contrasting pop of color in her hair, holds an iPad to a girl’s hat, eyes flickering over to the twins with a ghost of a smile.

Marinette glances through all the familiar faces as fast as possible before diving through the crowd towards Alya. Her friend pats the empty column. “Girl, where have you  _ been?  _ They’ve already started! They’re just critiquing the last five right now… Last  _ six  _ now.”

“I, uh, I got distracted by…” Her voice trails off as she fishes for a believable story. Sure, she didn’t have a lot of time to complete the hat… But she had even  _ less  _ time due to the akuma! She wonders if Chat Noir and Le Paon struggle getting back into their normal lives after the attacks. Or, maybe they’re just used to it now.

Alya clears her throat. “They can’t judge the  _ final  _ one if you don’t put it out.”

“If I don’t… Oh! Right!” She deboxes it, tossing the box to the ground, and slides the feather hat upon the podium. She’s impressed she somehow made it in time. Sweaty and exhausted from the akuma, her and Tikki powered through the last of the hat… And then, she sprinted here.

After a few seconds, Alya sighs. “I should’ve known.”

“What?” Marinette hesitantly follows her friend’s gaze, seeing where it lands on. Only a few columns down, someone made an  _ identical  _ copy to her hat. It lacks one of the genuine feathers she used, probably because Chloe wouldn’t have gone to the same extents Marinette did…

_ And because Marinette didn’t include it in her sketch!  _ That must be where Chloe stole the design from!

A thrill of excitement runs through her blood. She can finally,  _ finally,  _ catch Chloe at her own game! For as long as she can remember, Chloe backed her into corners and then hung her out to dry. She had the advantage of being the mayor’s daughter, so Marinette was forced to let whatever accusation disappear into thin air.

The woman and the Agreste twins walk over to Chloe’s hat, and this is the first time she’s able to hear the running commentary. A voice comes from the iPad, and Marinette recognizes it from an old TV show she dug up on YouTube a few nights back. “Miss Bourgeois, it’s been awhile.”

“Hi, Mr. Agreste!” chirps Chloe, just a little too optimistic. Rolling his eyes, Felix makes a face at Chloe. Alya stifles a laugh when she notices. One of the Agrestes made no attempt to hide his disdain for Chloe… If only it was Adrien instead of Felix.

The person on screen, Gabriel Agreste, clears his throat. “Adrien, pick up the hat and show me.”

“Yes, sir—”

“He’s allergic to feathers; I’ll do it.” Felix pushes Adrien out of the way before the model can even attempt picking it up, and he starts spinning it around slowly. Adrien’s face scrunches up as he takes a step backwards. His eyes start to water up before he politely sneezes into his elbow.

Alya nudges Marinette. “How is he supposed to model your hat?”

“It almost seems cruel,” murmurs Marinette in response. She can certainly remember what kind of torture Chat was put through during the akuma… And Chat had all the advantages of being a  _ superhero. _

Adrien sneezes again, and Chloe steps towards the twins, snatching it up and placing it back on the column. She shoves Adrien away with her shoulder and gives Felix a pointed look. He slides between Adrien and Mr. Agreste, almost…  _ Protectively.  _ When Felix and Chloe exchange another look, Marinette tries to interpret what it means. How  _ close  _ are they? She thought they hated each other!

On the iPad, the designer makes a tsk-ing noise. Whether it’s at Adrien and his apparent allergy or Chloe’s hat design… No, it has to be about the design, doesn’t it? He wouldn’t want his son to suffer for a relatively low-stake competition.

Before Mr. Agreste even asks, Marinette picks up her hat and presents every view on the hat…  _ Almost  _ every view of the hat.

The man on the iPad lacks the features of the twins. His eyes are narrowed and harsh, inspiring fear in a way Adrien and Felix both fail to. He has a more narrow father instead of the almost round faces of the twins. Still, he dresses like the legendary fashion designer she knows him to be.

He narrows his eyes on her hat. “Turn the tablet back to Miss Bourgeois’s hat, Nathalie.”

“I hope you have a plan, Mari,” mutters Alya.

She elbows Alya. “I have one last perspective of the hat to show.”

“No fair!” wails Chloe. She practically falls against Sabrina, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinks and they spill down her cheeks. Say what you wish about Chloe Bourgeois, but she certainly knows how to put on a good show. “Marinette copied my design, Monsieur Agreste! It’s so  _ scandalous!  _ How could you do that, Marinette? I thought we were friends; I  _ trusted  _ you!”

“I apologize,” interrupts Marinette calmly. A proud smile flits across her face as she starts to turn the hat upside down. “But, as we all can see, I _ signed  _ my hat. It’s a special design element, one I’ve implemented in all of my handmade goods… Such as this hat.”

Chloe sucks in a ragged breath, and then she’s bolting from the room with loud, fake cries.

Mr. Agreste studies it closely before nodding slightly. A silent sort of pride crosses his face, but it’s a different kind of pride than the kind she sees on her own father’s face. Her father would be proud no matter what, but Mr. Agreste is a hard man to impress. “Very exquisite creation. You definitely have the hands of a seamstress and fashionista, Mademoiselle…”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Adrien says with that trademark grin of his, and she  _ melts. _

His father doesn’t note the shift in his son. “Congratulations as well on keeping your poise despite the… Potential scandal. It reflects well on you. And, under close consideration, I imagine there can be no other winner than you, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

“Thank you,” she whispers in shock. When Alya nudges her to be louder, she squeals. “Thank you so much!”

She can’t believe what she’ll be able to tell her parents tonight. It’s one thing to encourage a job that almost seems impossible; it’s another thing to watch your daughter take her first, shaky step into an actual career. And…

“You and Adrien will be taking photos with your designed derby hat shortly,” Felix says.

-

“No shower has ever felt quite that nice,” Felix murmurs to Duusu. His back still aches from the fighting, and every muscle feels sore in a different way. Patrol tomorrow will be hell, but he’s on the schedule Ladybug and he drew up. There are two superheroes every night, and the third one gets to take the night off. Chat Noir, however, hasn’t been the best at following that policy.

Felix can’t imagine why he’d want  _ more  _ practice because right now, all he wants is a nice, warm bed. 

Duusu nuzzles his cheek. “No  _ bed  _ will ever feel quite this nice.”

The second he steps out of the bathroom, though, Felix bursts out laughing. “How much can you drool on the desk before you give in and go to bed?”

Adrien lifts his head, blinking blearily at Felix. It takes him a few seconds for recognition to shoot through. His shiny green eyes speak levels of his allergies as well as the pills he shoveled down his throat after the shoot. While it was short since Marinette was  _ very  _ understanding of his allergies, he just kept getting sicker and sicker.

His twin shakes his head. “I’m not done with my physics yet.”

“And you’re not going to  _ finish  _ like this. Come on, it’s bedtime,” commands Felix. When his brother makes no move to do anything, he sighs and walks over. Carefully, Felix drapes his arm over his shoulders and pushes him away from the desk. “Up, Adrien.”

“I’m not  _ done.”  _ Adrien’s head lolls onto his shoulder.

“And I don’t care.” Felix deposits his brother without much ceremony. If he does the big brother spiel he used to, if he shares the bed with Adrien and lets him fall asleep cuddled up next to him, Adrien will protest every move he makes in the night… And he  _ needs  _ to speak with Duusu.

His brother gives up his struggle the second his head hits the pillow. He curls up underneath the blankets. “Father’s gunna  _ kill  _ me.”

“Gabriel won’t kill you. That involves him actually having to notice your existence.” Felix says the last part too softly for Adrien to hear him before slamming his way back into the bathroom. Adrien will be out like a light the second he’s gone. Felix leans back against the door, crouching low and letting Duusu fly out once more. The steam from the shower still resides, and Duusu  _ loves  _ warm weather.

The small kwami makes a face at Felix. “You’re such a hypocrite, peachick. You haven’t gotten  _ any  _ sleep.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Felix counters. He’ll be able to sleep this weekend. 

Duusu shakes his head. “Peachick, you won’t be able to operate at your  _ full potential  _ if you don’t sleep!”

“Duusu, I have questions. Why don’t my feathers affect Adrien but everyone else’s still do?” he asks. When Duusu fails to respond, he presses against Duusu’s chest lightly. “I don’t think  _ magic  _ is a very good explanation.”

“You and Nathaniel,” he says instead.

Felix groans. “What about me and Nathaniel?”

“Cute. Not the  _ cutest.  _ I don’t think a redhead is the best pairing with a blond, and it feels too much like you’re copying Chloe and Sabrina rather than being a trendsetter, but…” Duusu makes a face, cocking his head slightly, as if  _ appraising  _ his future mate.

Burying his face in his hands, he grits out another question. “You’re really going to dodge my questions, aren’t you?”

“I  _ think,”  _ Duusu continues on louder, “it’s the red hair that’s genuinely confusing me. It’s because it’s a fox color, isn’t it? And peacocks can  _ love  _ their foxes.”

“That’s… Not a pairing in the animal kingdom,” he slowly says. “Is there a fox miraculous somewhere out there?”

“Of course there is. The question is where you find it.” Duusu winks. “Anyway, so Nathaniel—”

That’s all he’ll get from Duusu from tonight. More questions. This time, though, his mind starts to churn about a  _ fox  _ miraculous. And, apparently, whoever owns the fox miraculous, he’ll fall in love with. Felix doesn’t buy  _ that  _ part of it, but he’s sure Duusu will try and convince him otherwise.

When he opens the door, Adrien crashes into him. His brother laughs as he untangles them. “I won’t be able to sleep unless you come lay next to me, Fe.”

“Adrien, we’re a little old for this.” He leans back from his brother and stretches a pocket of his pajama pants. Duusu dives into the fabric without another word. The worst thing possible would be for Adrien to find out about Le Paon. His brother needs this secret, he’s  _ thriving  _ on this secret. If Felix takes it away, especially when he’s sick and hurting, it’s only cruel.

The blond pouts. “Please?”

“No—”

_ “Please.”  _ Adrien then trips over nothing, landing hard against Felix’s chest. He groans as he aggravates  _ another  _ place Felix didn’t realize he was sore. Being a superhero was a more intensive workout than previously expected. 

When he drags Adrien over to his bed this time, as he tries to push him down, Adrien wraps his hand around Felix’s and pulls him down as well. “Please, Felix? I’m not gonna be able to sleep if I know you’re still awake.”

“You took medicine which  _ makes  _ you drowsy. I have a feeling you’ll be able to sleep.” Felix rolls his eyes before scooting away from Adrien. His brother sighs contently into the pillow and seems to melt into the mattress. Before he tries and gets up, he feels Duusu pinch at the skin on his hip and settles back down.

To Duusu (but he directs it at the ceiling so Adrien doesn’t catch on), Felix proclaims this as bullying.

Adrien’s eyes are closed, but a sleepy smile plays on his lips. By the time he finishes the sentence, his voice drifts to nothing, and his face relaxes. “Thank you, Fe.”

Felix lays his head down on the other pillow and lets his own eyes shut. He needs answers, but he knows better than to try and get them tonight. Besides, maybe he’ll be able to convince Duusu to give them up as some kind of birthday present. After all, their birthday’s this weekend…

With the plan in mind, Felix falls asleep within seconds.

-

_ The top of the box popped open, and Plagg whirled out just in time for the box to hit the ground. The young woman flattened herself against the wall, wide eyes tracking him from across the room. When she managed to find her words, they came out in a meagre whisper. “What the hell?” _

_ Plagg studied her for a moment, trying to figure out where he laid with her. He felt something pulling him towards her; he felt  _ her  _ power crackling off of her. The most powerful meant one of two things. Either destiny just gave him the best Black Cat in the world, or destiny gave him the worst Black Cat in the world. _

_ He always prayed for the worst Black Cat. Because bad Black Cats meant they had too much heart, meant they still leant towards creation instead of destruction since that’s the nature of humanity. Bad Black Cats didn’t mean they failed at their jobs; it just meant they changed what the job meant.  _

_ “Humans are always so kind when they invite you to their lives,” Plagg drawled when she continued repeating what the hell under her breath. He flipped over, floating lazily. “This is where you offer me food… My stomach’s grumbling. Do you hear it? Louder than an earthquake right now.” _

_ “You want… Food?” she repeated. _

_ He nodded. “Cheese specifically.” _

_ “Cheese, specifically.” The woman let out a low laugh before going to run a hand through her hair. She hesitated before letting her hand fall to her side. “That’s fine, I bet I can find you some around here. I just got done with my shift, but… But I’m sure I can find you cheese. I think I got a sandwich for dinner stashed in the fridge. Swiss okay?” _

_ “Camembert is better.” As the woman started throwing things around the room, he darted around and took in the scene. He can tell she’s of a different caliber than the last Black Cat he had. She stayed within a trailer with only a small fridge in the corner to provide food. She draped various outfits on the back of chairs and her sofa, and the blankets sprawled on the sofa hinted strongly of her sleeping there. _

_ Beyond that, his last Black Cat’s intellect went unrivaled (even by the Ladybug, which caused a new sort of problem). He kept up to date on any possible issue Plagg could help him solve, and when he started to listen to the siren song of darkness, he knew this Black Cat could cause too much damage, too fast. Fu pulled him out before anything could happen, and while Plagg would remain by his Chosen’s side until he couldn’t, Wayzz yanked the Miraculous out and flew away. _

_ But, if he could stay in the same family, the same  _ bloodline  _ forever, he would. The problem always rested with his wielders, though. Most of the time, they don’t survive long enough to have children. And those who do survive long enough, they often turn their back to the light.  _

_ The woman stopped, emerging with a slice of cheese. “This is the best I can do… Uh… You’re that one thing Katsumi has.” _

_ “Katsumi? That one thing?” Plagg paused. Something soured in the air. _

_ She nodded. “Katsumi Tsurugi. She has a little… Peacock version of you.” _

_ She wasn’t meant to know that yet… But a smile started to grow on her face, and it didn’t meet her eyes. _

**Author's Note:**

> SNEAK PEEK OF NEXT WEEK:  
> "How do I look, Plagg?"  
> …  
> "Fifteen."


End file.
